(Central Park photos by Bald Punk) Under twilight skies, I climbed into a horse-drawn carriage, having to bow my head below the canopy, and plopped down in the rear seat. Not a second later the driver snapped the reins and gave a curt whistle. The horse snorted, sending up a fresh plume of smoke. The carriage jutted forward to […]

(Photos by Bald Punk – Central Park W & 72nd St) I could retrace my steps to the morning and point out little signs that indicated something otherworldly lay in my path. Not that what ensued was earth-shattering. I had another encounter with a ghost. Yet it’s interesting to note how sometimes when I have […]

(Photos by Bald Punk – Scrappy D) Seated on the couch, I craned my neck at the sounds of my friends outside the apartment door. They had returned from walking my dog, Scrappy D. I anticipated the little guy darting into the room and springing into my arms. He is one of the smartest dogs, probably of all time. Whenever […]

(Babe Ruth at bat) We were parked on River Avenue in the shadow of the new Yankee Stadium. Scrappy D had his hind legs on my thigh, and his snout was against the window. I ran my fingers up and down his back. Sitting next to me, my lady friend(LF) hoped her sister wouldn’t be […]

(Babe Ruth in the film, Headin’ Home, 1920 ) I can understand if you don’t believe all the stuff that happens to me. All I can say is “good thing I don’t live in New Jersey,” then I probably wouldn’t believe it either. The only way I can explain it is to say, NYC is different. I […]

(Photos by Bald Punk – Yankee Stadium) From the peak of the large hill on Morningside Drive in upper Manhattan, I had heard what sounded like a bat hitting a ball and the roar of a crowd. All I knew was that it was coming from far off . . . Twenty minutes later we […]

(Photos by Bald Punk – Morningside Drive and Park, Manhattan) The other day I was walking Scrappy Doodles on Morningside Drive, daydreaming that I was a musical prodigy. I saw myself onstage at the Central Park bandshell. My bulky frame was hunched over a miniature piano. I played the “Linus and Lucy theme” from Charlie Brown. My thin fingers glided effortlessly […]

(Photos by Bald Punk – Peck Slip/South Street) My lady friend(LF) called the psychic Carrie Robbins, and I got on the phone and told her about the three ghosts that we saw in a bar down by South Street. Of the four of us, I saw them the clearest and could swear that their images clung […]

(Photos by Bald Punk – South Street) The voices I heard on South Street weren’t just any old voices. They’re ones that months ago that I had also heard in a dream . . . I was a man possessed, acting like a mad dog. And I was loose on South Street by the old Fulton Fish […]

(Photos by Bald Punk – South Street) After a week in which I had found clouds at every turn during the day, including inside various dust-choked demo-sites where I worked, that Friday night was supposed to have been a good one. Off early from work, I went home, took a shower, and zipped back out to one of my […]